Chapter 6 - THE WOMAN BEFORE ME
Jenna arrived in Chicago the next morning with a black leather folder tucked beneath her arm.
We met in Rebecca's conference room instead of anywhere personal.
I was not ready to invite Michael's first wife into Tessa's home while Emma was there.
Jenna seemed to understand without being told.
She looked different from her online photograph.
Older, obviously.
Tired around the eyes.
But calm.
She shook my hand instead of hugging me.
I appreciated that too.
"I'm sorry we're meeting like this."
I almost laughed.
"I'm sorry I believed everything they said about you."
Jenna gave a small shrug.
"You weren't supposed to question it."
Rebecca closed the conference room door.
"Before we listen to anything, I need to know how the recording was made."
Jenna explained that she had recorded a conversation in her own home during the final week of her marriage.
Rebecca asked additional questions about timing and context.
I let the legal details pass over me.
All I wanted was to hear Michael's voice.
Jenna placed an old phone on the table.
"I kept the original device."
She unlocked it.
"I also kept a copy on a drive in a safe deposit box."
Rebecca nodded approvingly.
Jenna pressed play.
For several seconds, all we heard was movement and the faint hum of an air conditioner.
Then Diane's voice came through.
"You have no idea what you're talking about."
Jenna's younger voice answered.
"I have the statements."
"Statements can be misunderstood."
"Three hundred and twelve thousand dollars went to properties in your name."
Diane laughed.
"Those properties support the business."
"Then why aren't they on the company books?"
A door slammed on the recording.
Then Michael spoke.
His voice was younger, but unmistakable.
"Jenna, stop."
I felt cold all over.
Jenna's recorded voice sharpened.
"You knew."
Michael did not answer.
"You knew she was doing this."
Diane interrupted.
"Michael doesn't owe you an explanation."
Jenna ignored her.
"How long have you known?"
Then Michael said the sentence Lauren had promised existed.
"Since before we got married."
My stomach dropped.
Six years before I ever met him, Michael had known.
The recording continued.
Jenna sounded devastated.
"You told me you discovered it last month."
"I was trying to protect you."
I almost laughed at the familiar phrase.
Michael had apparently been using the same excuse for years.
"Protect me from what?"
Jenna demanded.
"From this family turning on you."
Diane's voice cut in.
"This family has done nothing but help you."
"You used my signature on vendor documents."
I looked at Rebecca.
She looked back at me.
There it was again.
A signature.
Jenna continued.
"You put my name on paperwork I never signed."
Diane scoffed.
"It was administrative."
My hands curled into fists beneath the table.
Administrative.
That was apparently the Carter family word for forgery.
Michael spoke more softly.
"Mom, just give her what she wants."
Diane snapped at him.
"What she wants is control."
"I want my name off fraudulent documents."
The recording suddenly became louder.
There was a scrape.
Then Jenna cried out.
Rebecca paused the audio.
"What happened there?"
Jenna touched her own jaw without thinking.
"Diane shoved me into the kitchen island."
I stared at her.
"Did Michael see it?"
Jenna looked directly at me.
"He was standing three feet away."
The room disappeared for a moment.
I saw Michael at Diane's dining table instead.
His eyes on his plate.
His body motionless after his mother hit me.
It had not been shock.
It had been practice.
Jenna pressed play again.
Her younger voice shook with anger.
"Did you just put your hands on me?"
Diane shouted something unintelligible.
Michael's voice followed.
"Everybody calm down."
Jenna laughed bitterly on the recording.
"She assaulted me and you're telling everybody to calm down?"
Michael answered.
"You were provoking her."
I closed my eyes.
Six years later, he had said almost the same thing to me.
You hit her too.
That's your version.
People do not always repeat their mistakes accidentally.
Sometimes the repetition is the system.
The recording went on for another nine minutes.
Michael begged Jenna not to contact the police.
Diane threatened to accuse Jenna of stealing company files.
Jenna said she was leaving.
Michael told her she would regret destroying the family.
Then Diane said something that made me sit forward.
"No woman is taking half of what Robert built."
Jenna stopped the recording.
"Robert was Michael's father."
I nodded.
Robert Carter had died three years before I met Michael.
Diane spoke about him like he had been a saint.
There were photographs of him all over her house.
"What did she mean by half?"
Jenna opened the black leather folder.
"Michael never told you how the company ownership works, did he?"
"He said Diane owns fifty-one percent and he owns forty-nine."
Jenna shook her head.
"That's what they tell people."
She handed Rebecca a copy of a trust document.
"Robert owned sixty percent when he died."
"Diane owned forty."
I frowned.
"Then where did his sixty go?"
Jenna tapped the page.
"Thirty went directly to Michael."
"The other thirty went into a family trust."
"Diane became trustee."
I read the document.
The trust's beneficiaries included Michael and any legally recognized children or stepchildren living in his household under certain conditions.
I stopped reading.
"Stepchildren?"
Jenna nodded.
"Robert had been a stepfather himself."
My pulse quickened.
"Emma could be a beneficiary?"
"Possibly."
Rebecca leaned forward.
"We need a trust attorney before making assumptions."
I nodded.
But a new piece of Diane's hostility suddenly made sense.
She had repeatedly complained that Emma was not really Michael's child.
She had called me a gold digger.
She had accused me of trapping Michael with another man's daughter.
Maybe those insults were not just cruelty.
Maybe money sat underneath them.
"Did Diane ever talk about children when you were married to Michael?"
I asked.
Jenna laughed softly.
"Constantly."
"Why?"
"Because the trust becomes harder for her to control when there are additional beneficiaries."
My skin prickled.
"Did you have children?"
Jenna shook her head.
"We tried."
Pain flickered across her face.
I did not ask more.
She continued.
"When we started discussing adoption, Diane lost her mind."
I stared at her.
"Because an adopted child could qualify?"
"That's what my attorney believed."
Rebecca read the trust language carefully.
"This needs specialist review."
Jenna nodded.
"I know."
I thought about Diane telling Emma that Michael would be happier if it were just him and her.
I thought about Diane trying to remove Emma from school.
Then another thought hit me.
"Emma's birth certificate is missing."
Jenna's head snapped toward me.
"What?"
I explained what I found in my office.
Jenna went completely still.
"Check Diane's house."
I stared at her.
"Why?"
"Because she took mine too."
Rebecca stopped reading.
"Your birth certificate?"
"My passport copy, our marriage certificate, and my Social Security card copy."
"When?"
"Right before the divorce."
Jenna looked at me.
"I found them in a locked file cabinet in Diane's basement."
A chill ran down my spine.
"Why would she keep them?"
"Control."
Jenna's answer was immediate.
"She kept files on everybody."
"Medical information."
"Financial statements."
"Copies of IDs."
"Old signatures."
I looked at the forged loan application.
Old signatures.
Diane did not need to imitate me from memory.
She could have had samples.
Rebecca asked Jenna whether she had photographs of the file cabinet.
Jenna did.
The pictures were old and slightly blurry, but the folders were visible.
Each one had a family member's name written on the tab.
FRANK.
MICHAEL.
JENNA.
ROBERT.
There were dozens more.
One empty hanging folder sat near the front.
The label had been handwritten recently when the photograph was taken six years ago.
FUTURE.
Jenna pointed at it.
"She always prepares for the next person."
I felt sick.
I had probably become that folder.
After the meeting, Jenna and I walked outside together.
Rebecca stayed behind to contact the forensic accountant.
Jenna stopped beside my car.
"I need to tell you something that isn't in the recording."
I waited.
"Michael came to see me two years after our divorce."
"Why?"
"He apologized."
That surprised me.
"For what?"
"For choosing Diane."
I looked at her.
"Did you forgive him?"
"No."
"Did he ask you to come back?"
Jenna shook her head.
"He asked me not to tell his next serious girlfriend about the company."
My chest tightened.
"Was I that girlfriend?"
Jenna looked away.
"He showed me your picture."
I could not speak.
"When?"
"About three months after you started dating."
The betrayal rearranged itself again.
Michael had known exactly who I was.
He had known exactly what he was hiding.
He had gone to the one person who could warn me and asked her to stay silent.
"Why didn't you contact me?"
Jenna's eyes filled with regret.
"Because I had signed the settlement."
"And because I was scared."
She swallowed.
"I told myself you were an adult and maybe Michael had changed."
I looked toward the street.
"He didn't."
"No."
Jenna touched my arm lightly.
"But you are doing something I didn't do."
"What's that?"
"You're keeping records before they can rewrite the story."
My phone buzzed.
A message from Michael appeared.
I looked at it.
WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT THE TRUST BEFORE MY MOTHER FINDS OUT YOU KNOW.
I turned the screen toward Jenna.
Her face drained of color.
"How does he know you know?"
I looked toward the conference room window.
Only four people had discussed it.
Jenna.
Rebecca.
Me.
And whoever Michael was talking to inside our lives.
Then a second message arrived.
May you like
DON'T TRUST LAUREN.
SHE'S BEEN WORKING FOR MY MOTHER LONGER THAN SHE TOLD YOU.
